Finger Painting
by dracolover99
Summary: What happens when young boy men enter the head mistress's office and Dumbledore speaks to them through his portrait? Oh you just wouldn't believe...


Finger Painting

Once again Harry sat quite distressed, mulling over the days events in the head mistress's office. Indeed, it wasn't the first time he had been caught with his pants down, literally. It might have been the suspicious reappearance of a disheveled Parvati and Lavender... Or the fiasco in the kitchens the other night.

His eyes scanned nervously around the room before lingering a moment on Dumbledore's empty frame. A sudden gust of air against his lap carried his attention south of the border. His fly was undone… He could feel the blood rush up to his cheeks and soon he was adorned by a crimson blush. He giggled; emotions and memories of moments before flooded back into his body. With a heavy sigh and much longing, he pulled up the metal zipper with his pale, long, wet, boney fingers.

He heard a fluttering sound to his left, followed by a familiar sound of excitement and delight. To Harry's surprise he locked eyes with stormy grey wise orbs of his late headmaster staring out of his newly appointed frame!

"P-P-professor..." Harry stuttered immediately taken aback, his hands hovering over his half exposed knickers.

Just the sight of his professor lit a delightful yet mysterious spark in the bottom of his soul; he could not help but be consumed by the very fire!

"Harry, my beautiful blossoming boy man, I've watched you grow all these years and now it seems you have finally reached your," the old mans eyes finally left Harry's gaze and focused on the now slight bulge of his trousers, "Manhood."

Harry let out a throaty moan as he gripped the arms of his chair and raised his hips slightly off the seat in hopes of relieving the growing pressure in his lower abdomen.

"How long has it been, my dear boy, it's felt like eternity waiting for you to enter these chambers of many many secrets."

"Eight months, sixteen days, four hours," Harry stole a glance at his watch, "thirty four minutes and… twenty three long seconds."

Dumbledore clicked his tongue loudly, "I've missed you too."

Without hesitation or fear for unrequited love, Harry leapt toward the portrait, his lips colliding with fierce ferocity against the slick paint of the canvas. His knees buckled with angst; he could not get through the fabric of the canvas, his tongue could not enter those sweet parted lips, his hands…

"My boy you are fighting a losing battle. There is no way to break though these bonds of imprisonment that I am confined in. I am but a prisoner of Azkaban! Harry, my dear Harry, give me a show; we could perform for each other as my sorcerer's stones grow ever larger with each passing moment. I long to plunge into your deathly hallows, my highly ordered phoenix drinking of your goblet of fire. But it cannot be done." Dumbledore's voice wavered with embarrassment and regret. But as he stood behind his frame it was obvious of his want. "I have been silent for too long. I have waited for years for this moment and now it is time to release the beast."

Harry's eyes glinted with desire, but his actions were stopped by the question formed on his tongue.

"Professor, if you don't mind me asking, how were you able to find me after all these long…months? Why now? Why here?"

"Oh, Harry, I have an ear trained to pick up the sound of a young boy man like yourself zippering his trousers," he moaned softly, his hands slipping below the edge of the frame to tend to the beast below, "the sound of the metal _grinding_ against metal…"

Harry did not even think to hesitate and in one swift motion yanked down his pants, knickers and all, to the many sighs of delight from his former headmaster. Dumbledore followed suit, quickly standing and shedding his star bedecked robes to expose his naked body beneath.

"I see we both have a firm salute" Dumbledore said, his voice husky and coming in short gasps.

Harry grunted, wrapping his hands around his shaft and beginning to stroke slowly up and down, while Dumbledore mirrored him with equal enjoyment.

"Harry p-please," Dumbledore faltered, his mind too focused on the hardness enclosed in his grasp, "please use the flexibility charm, I know you know it, please don't make an old man wait!"

Harry grinned, slightly aghast, but all the willing. He pointed his wand and purred,

"Flexebilius maximus" and proceeded to flop over, his lips encircling his rigid cock. His body folded in amazing spectacles of flexibility, as he opened his throat to his entire quivering length. He spread his legs, giving Dumbledore a show of his sorcerer's stones before bending them behind his head in the formation of a human pretzel. The groans emitting from the portrait on the wall escalated, with half mumbled groans of "Oh! I'd just love to eat you up"

The intensity lasted merely a few moments more before Dumbledore's knees wobbled and his eyes rolled back slightly in ecstasy. He shot his cum _splat_ against the inside of the canvas, blurring himself from Harry's view. He wiped his hand against the mess, creating a hole to look through and see Harry's sweating face staring back at him. He was so close.

Just then, footsteps were heard and the door swung open to reveal a lubricant laden headmistress, candles floating in tow. She stopped dead in her tracks, her breaths barely coming to her through the tightened black bustier that cinched her middle and inflated her breasts.

Harry swung the chair around in shock, and with the excitement of the bustier wearing goddess entering the room, he had no time to stop his testicles from tightening and throwing their semen across her face.

The lubricant fell with a clatter, the hands coming up to her face and wiping the goo from her eyes.

"Albus, I told you to wait for me!"


End file.
